


Save the last dance for me

by allollipoppins



Series: Blood and Chocolate - YoI 2018 Valentine [2]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Five Nights at Freddy's, Alternate Universe - Little Red Riding Hood Fusion, Ghost In The Machine, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Robot/Human Relationships, nothing terrible don't worry about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13659105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allollipoppins/pseuds/allollipoppins
Summary: "He’d been warned. Mike Schmidt, Jeremy Fitzgerald, and even one Fritz Smith had taken the time to send him texts, give him a phone call or two – to the point he’d had to block each and every single one of them. Had even gone as far as visiting him at his house. Yuuri had listened, and nodded, and maybe threatened to file complaint and report them for harassment, with moderate success.If they had only known what his motives were… If they had only traced him back, if they had been smart enough… then he wouldn’t be here. And yet… and yet Yuuri isn’t quite sure of what he is about to do."Based off Five Nights at Freddy's: Sister Location (no knowledge of the franchise needed). Yuuri looks for someone from his past, in the last place anyone alive would want to explore...





	Save the last dance for me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missbellatrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbellatrix/gifts).



> Part twoof my dark Yoi Valentine series, that comprises 4 parts.  
> Each story is dedicated to a different, special person in my life, but in spite of that each of them is first and foremost a gift to everyone. Whether you are familiar with my works or you are a newcomer. Because romance is overrated and I love you all to bits :)  
> To my dear missbellatrix, this is both a Valentine's day gift, and an apology gift for still not updating the Gone Girl AU, I'm so very sorry hon... I originally meant to write something based off your doll AU, but given the fact that we didn't really talk about it, I didn't feel confident enough to give you something bittersweet which wouldn't match your amazing idea. So here is something a little sad too, but I hope you'll like it :)
> 
> Main prompt: Yuri died following an accident that occured at the Freddy Fazbear/Circus Baby's Pizza World but his soul, instead of ascending, became trapped in an animatronic. Yuuri goes to find him.

Everyone knows better than to venture near Circus Baby’s Pizza World.

Families go past the restaurant as fast as they can whenever they find themselves on its way, or take shortcuts and other roads when they can afford to. Children, even the bravest, most scatterbrained ones know to always carry a knife on them if they are to pass by. Some keep them small, sharp as scalpels and retractable, easy to hide inside a pocket or under a sleeve to pop should it be necessary. Others carry blades half as big as them, moulded between jackets and shirts or slipped under a pant leg, holders specially created to prevent the sharpened edge from cutting into flesh. If there is anything that attracts the monsters more than movement, it is blood.

Such a shame Yuuri hadn’t gotten the memo after applying for the job.

The knife rests in his hand, a cool blade that digs into his palm with sharp teeth but feels surprisingly warm, smooth with a dull edge. He keeps it safe, the handle tucked under a long sleeve. An extension of his own limb, or a bone stripped of skin. The buzzer he always carries around vibrates in his pocket, a frantic beat that reminds him that maybe, just maybe, he really shouldn’t have left his phone in the office.

He’d been warned. Mike Schmidt, Jeremy Fitzgerald, and even one Fritz Smith had taken the time to send him texts, give him a phone call or two – to the point he’d had to block each and every single one of them. Had even gone as far as visiting him at his house. Yuuri had listened, and nodded, and maybe threatened to file complaint and report them for harassment, with moderate success.

If they had only known what his motives were… If they had only traced him back, if they had been smart enough… then he wouldn’t be here. And yet… and yet Yuuri isn’t quite sure of what he is about to do.

The lump in his throat seems to grow bigger with every step he takes inside the establishment, feet fitting into each square tile on the floor. In spite of experience, acquired from past events and his recent night guard shifts, the grounds he treads on feel completely unknown to him; the sight that had welcomed him for the first time in years had almost taken him by surprise, the night of his trial shift for the position. It wasn’t just the gloomy atmosphere only reinforced by the lack of light and cobwebs no cleaning staff would take care of, or the damaged facilities that he had had to crawl through for better access. The thought of the monsters that lurked behind the sets rattled him, like any other rational human being.

Like wolves, the animatronics moved in the shadows, solitary and in herd all at once, all part of a cunning pack system. They were impossible to miss. The wiring so akin to a broken, stalling engine; the cluck of their jaws as they opened and the sag of the face-plates as they unscrewed, loosened to reveal the horrors hidden beneath the endoskeletons. The eyes that burned bright, unsettling pastel hues that blended with neon stage-lights; the rest of their metallic bodies shielded from light, obscuring the wraith quality of their limbs, and it was said that if you squinted only so slightly, you could catch a sight of the little bits of flesh protruding from underneath their ribs. But by the time you did, odds were you were already dead.

Yuuri swallows against his will, feeling slightly uneasy. The hesitation had taken over him again, making his whole body shake, his hands clenching into fists and loosening at his sides. He sighs. Even with newly-found duties as a night guard – and a competent one, thank you very much, he couldn’t get used to the place. Nothing but a normal human reaction, for sure. They roamed about, he could sense it, and yet they didn’t attack or move an inch, letting do his work in peace. What if they were all planning something? He would never know.

Sometimes Yuuri wills himself to be like them. A closed, unsentimental creature, a mere system that responded to controlled shocks and computerized instructions, an entity lacking imbricated knowledge of fear. Still unsure, he put one foot in front of the other, slowly making his way towards the Ballora gallery. His keen eye detects them, the shadows hiding in the corners, but he brushes them away from his mind. If they had wanted to attack him, they would have done so a long time ago.

The gallery vent closes upon him like a pair of jaws. The interior of the room is every bit as cold as the outside galleries, cold breeze leaking through the conduits. He catches sight of the Breaker Room door, at the end of the room, bathed in darkness. The tiles floor click under his feet, the sound echoing in the deafening silence.

And then, music.

A soft, shrill voice echoed between the four walls, overpowering, booming through the emptiness. It shakes, trembles, a practised mezzo-soprano that runs deeply, the results of mechanic vocal cords. But to Yuuri, it feels altogether too human to be simply the invention of a machine. Too low to imitate a woman’s voice, also.

“ _When there is music in my halls?”_ she – he – sang, tone forlorn and melancholic. “ _All I see is an empty room. No more joy, an empty tomb. It's so good to sing all day. To dance, to spin, to fly away...”_

No traces were left of the old ballerina, save for the long, slender, almost human-like white limbs of metal. No blue leotard or purple tutu decorated with golden orbs, no more neon blue lipstick, with matching hair and nails. No more jewelry to adorn its features, no tiara nor earrings. The figure that stood before him only had pink, rosy cheeks, a stark contrast with the rest of its pale face, their glow slightly obscured by several strands of blond, silky and soft-looking hair. The rest of the body, too, was hidden from prying, corrupted eyes, underneath black clothes that made the doll – him – blend with the darkness of the room.

“Is someone there?” A voice startled him, causing Yuuri to gasp and take a step back. He held his breath as the head, which had stayed still throughout the song, started to tilt, turning to the sides.

“I can hear someone creeping through my room,” it hissed. “Or,” he drawled, “perhaps not...”

It wasn’t merely mechanical, something had dripped slightly in his voice, and yet straight he stood, poised on his toes, arms raised in a perfect circle. Yuuri couldn’t pinpoint the nuance that tinged his voice: sadness, tiredness…maybe a note of anger?

For a second, he wasn’t quite sure of what to answer, transfixed by the puppet’s awakening. And then gradually, with utmost slowness, he stepped into the light.

Ballora had always kept her eyes closed, both to the public and to the technician. And yet as Yuri advanced towards the animatronic, his eyes started to open, not with their usual click, but slowly, the system thrumming at a low pace as the eyelids parted to reveal twin globes of emerald green. His eyes, his eyes were the most striking part of his face. They were a deep colour, clear with a few dark flecks; staring into his eyes was like gazing at his own reflection in a clear pond. Only these eyes…they were practically expressionless. They gazed down at him, through him, as if he were glass, like he didn’t exist at all. They looked empty, broken, and tired, so tired. The eyes of someone who had seen too much in his entire life. A life he’d barely enjoyed, or gotten the time to before he’d had to go away.

Yuuri felt a deep pang of sadness worming its way through his being at the sight; and yet seeing Yuri regarding him so, his eyes a startling shade of green, filled him with a sentiment he could only describe as honour, even pride, for being the only person allowed to see him so fully.

The globes shifted in their sockets, and with them the expression that filled them. Yuuri followed their course, gazing intently at the way the iris widened, the green pupils hardening into a thin ring that clung to the dark pools of black; the mouth opened slightly, showing two rows of sharp, pearly white teeth. The circle of his arms loosened, limbs uncurling from their position and falling to the sides of the puppet. Though none of the other features changed, Yuuri knew what the other signs meant.

Recognition.

And yet his grip on the knife, still hidden underneath his sleeve, never wavered.

“I thought...” the other one drawled, with tortuous languor, “I thought that you would leave me.”

Yuuri saw how his jaw opened wider, a gaping hole that led to nothingness, but didn’t flinch.

“I told you I’d come back. And I always keep my promises.”

Yuuri took a step forward. For the briefest of moments, his eyes seemed human again, alive.

‘What big eyes you have,” he said.

‘All the better to see you with,” the animatronic replied.

Another step. Up, on the platform, only inches away.

‘What big arms you have,” Yuuri said, gaze flickering briefly to the arms resting heavily at his sides. Yuuri then lifted his head and returned the eye contact, getting more confidence with every word and making it clear that he was present. Here. With him.

‘All the better to hug you with,’ the dancer replied.

Another step. Face to face again.

‘What big teeth you have,” Yuuri whispered, raising a hand to his face, his fingertips lingering on the other’s cheek. Even in the coolness of the room, his skin felt oddly warm, but not unwelcome.

Yuri leaned closer, nose touching his own, a wicked smile stretched over his lips. ‘All the better to eat you with.’

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos and bookmarks are always appreciated :)  
> I'm @allolippoppins on tumblr & @AriLioN355 on twitter. Hmu!


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